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Articles on ARR from YG.

Topic started by Are Yaar (@ 203.197.141.186) on Thu Oct 10 08:44:25 EDT 2002.
All times in EST +10:30 for IST.

For many days, I felt that I should have a thread to share some of the articles about ARR in desi and international press and website. I intend to start this thread and expect others also to post some articles about ARR here.

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Responses:

• Old responses
  
• From: WN (@ 203.24.100.133) on: Thu Nov 14 04:23:03 EST 2002
  
  I found this on the YG tho it has nothing to do with ARR:
  http://in.movies.yahoo.com/021108/85/1xjd0.html
  
  Also saw this on Sify Movies:
  
  "Dream Team!
  
  Will Kamalhassan and Mani Ratnam come together once again? Nayakan was the last film they did together about 15 years back. The discussions are going on for the last six months and they are trying to work out a script. Recently at the audio launch of Surya’s Mounam Pesiyathe, both were on stage and told James Vasanth, the compere of the function, that they will be coming together “soon”.
  
  But the trade is not very excited about it as they say that both are no longer hot. Kamalhassan had a hat trick of flops, while Mani Ratnam has not only had disasters but he has slowly moved away from mainstream commercial cinema. And it is just a fact that today, if something has to work with the Tamil audience, it has to be a pucca commercial.
  
  Still Mani and Kamal if they have to survive have to come together to create a hype which can sell their project. They should bury their ego and come out with something out of the world that will work at the box-office."
  
  
• From: Are Yaar (@ 203.197.141.186) on: Sat Nov 16 01:09:52 EST 2002
  
  Coming to music in Hindi films, Kapoor said he had been ''very
  fortunate '' to have done films like '1942-A Love Story' and 'Taal'
  which had exquisite music. ''I consider A R Rahman a rare talent in
  our industry today... he keeps giving us unique music''
  
  
  http://www.deepikaglobal.com/latestnews.asp?ncode=4837
  
  ------
  
  Why Subhash Ghai Didn´t Reveal The Full Star Cast
  By: Abid
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  
  http://www.planetbollywood.com/News/n2502-134408.php
  
  Planet Bollywood had previously confirmed about Subhash Ghai´s
  new venture with Dilip Kumar and A.R. RAhman as the music
  director. While that was the only information Ghai confirmed
  regarding his manganamous venture, Ghai did not reveal the rest of
  the star cast.
  
  Initially he wanted to take Dilip Kumar, mitabh and Shahrukh but
  it seems that Devaa is still a sour point for Amitabh and Ghai.
  
  So he finally settled for Dilip Kumar and Shahrukh Khan, a casting
  coup of sorts.
  
  However, it seems that Shahrukh is too busy with his home
  production and cannot spare any dates until April. He wants to
  give full attention to his third home production after the debacle
  of Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani and Asoka and as such he has not
  given a firm yes to Ghai yet.
  
  Hence, Ghai is waiting for this confirmation from Shah Rukh, as
  reported to the media before he releases any solid information
  regarding the star cast of his next venture.
  
  
  
• From: Are Yaar (@ 203.197.141.186) on: Sat Nov 16 01:10:37 EST 2002
  
  http://www.alternet.org/story.html?StoryID=14544
  
  "But Mani Ratnam's 1998 film Dil Se is the most notable. The story of
  an All-India Radio journalist (Shah Rukh Kahn) who travels to
  northeast India to cover an insurrection and falls obsessively in
  love with a beautiful, enigmatic and standoffish woman (who may or
  may not be a terrorist) makes for a sublime cinematic experience.
  Rutnam is one of India's most innovative filmmakers, blending the
  conventions of Bollywood's grand style with an operatic art-house
  aesthetic. His fluid command of mise-en-scène is breathtaking; his
  song-and-dance sequences have a surreal, seductive and uncanny visual
  style, punctuated by A.R. Rahman's hallucinatory score. Like his
  earlier Bombay, this is a devastating film about sexual and emotional
  desire colliding with communal, political and religious identities.
  "
  
  
  Bollywood Dreams
  
  By Carl Bromley, In These Times
  November 14, 2002
  
  Behold Hrithik Roshan! Bollywood dream boy! He of the satyr's face-
  pointy ears, aquiline nose, translucent greeny hazel eyes-that melts
  the hearts of women across the Indian subcontinent! Older women think
  he's such a "nice boy," though they worry if he's eating enough,
  while their daughters have spread him across their bedroom walls-in
  ubiquitous shades and a tank top barely hiding his finely muscled
  form-just as the ad industry has plastered his visage all over India.
  
  
  There are few overnight sensations of Hrithik's kind. Plucked from
  relative obscurity by his film director father to appear in a movie
  that every big star had turned down, twinned with the equally obscure
  Amisha Patel (an econ grad from Tufts, no less), Kaho Naa ... Pyaar
  Hai ("Tell me ... You Love Me") opened two years ago with zero buzz
  to break almost every Indian box office record. Hrithik was soon cast
  with the immortal likes of Amitabh Bachchan (Big B, as close to a
  living demigod you get in India), rough, tough Sanjay Dutt, cheeky
  Shah Rukh Kahn and cutie-pie Kareena Kapoor. In what must have been a
  first for GQ, the magazine profiled Hrithik, describing him as "the
  most famous person you have never heard of, one of the biggest movie
  stars in the world." He told GQ that he was ready to play James Bond.
  
  
  If some kind of Faustian pact engineered Hrithik's rise to fame, it
  didn't take long for his creditors to come calling for their cut. The
  Indian film magazines, perhaps the most bitchy in the world, soon
  spread rumors that, contrary to the declared devotion to fiancé
  Suzanne, he was gallivanting in London with frequent co-star Kapoor.
  This was par for the course. (Amitabh once complained that these
  rumors come with the territory when you spend more time with your
  leading ladies than your wife.)
  
  
  Then there were the two days of rioting in Nepal after it was alleged
  that Hrithik had dissed the Nepalese in a TV interview. Tires and
  trees were set ablaze, Katmandu was shut down, and four people died.
  (Hrithik insists he loves Nepal.) This too is par for the course.
  When Amitabh was mistakenly declared dead in 1982, India ground to a
  halt.
  
  
  But what sent shockwaves through Bollywood was the attempted murder
  of Hrithik's father in broad daylight by gangsters alleged to be
  associates of Abu Salem, the Bombay underworld kingpin who is
  currently a fugitive. (Apparently Roshan Sr. hadn't paid protection
  money.) Hrithik's tribute to his father-angry, tender and emotional-
  at the Filmfare awards was very moving. And you had to ask yourself,
  what's a nice boy like him doing in a business like this?
  
  
  The failed assassination attempt unveiled Bollywood's scariest and
  most open secret-that the industry, so used to producing industrial-
  strength fantasy, had become the playground of gangsters. A slew of
  Bollywood's best and brightest have been subpoenaed to testify in the
  trial of a leading Bombay underworld figure and film financier.
  
  
  It's common to hear that India's new gods are its film stars. Hindu
  imagery is indeed the dominant religio-cultural form in a vaguely
  secular industry (many of whose leading artistes are actually
  Muslim). Much is made of the enormous social power that celebrity
  confers on them, the mass adoration and enthusiasm they generate.
  This is not lost on the political class, either. Two of Bollywood's
  biggest stars-Vinod Khanna and Shatrughan "Shotgun" Sinha-have just
  been handed, respectively, the Tourism and Health Ministry portfolios
  in India's federal cabinet. I remember being in southern India when
  Marudur Gopalamenon Ramachandran-or MGR, the former superstar of
  Tamil cinema turned chief minister of Tamil Nadu-died. The news
  anchor announced that a number of suicides had come in the wake of
  MGR's death. And before that, 22 people had killed themselves hoping
  their death might aid MGR's recovery.
  
  
  But in a country where religious imagery and devotion is deeply
  embedded, and extreme Hindu fundamentalism is ascendant, the
  direction of worship flows both ways. The industry's leading lights
  shamelessly genuflect to Bal Thackeray, the czar of Bombay's
  terrifying Hindu chauvinist Shiv Sena Party and a confessed Hitler
  admirer. Shiv Sena controls the municipality, and Thackeray has
  become an important broker in the industry, ready to order his
  supporters to release snakes into movie theaters if he dislikes the
  film's content. Bollywood's film stars are mortal then, and yes, prey
  to the vicissitudes of fate: A recent issue of Showtime magazine
  screams: "Finished! Seven flops, overexposure and disastrous career
  moves finally spell the end of the Hrithik Roshan mania."
  
  
  Hrithik's travails are a case of his life imitating his art. Perhaps
  the only thing stranger than off-screen Bollywood is what's up there
  on the big screen. There is nothing on earth like it. How to describe
  this strange film universe? Here are the usual cliches and factoids
  relayed by hacks: More films produced a year than Hollywood! Boy
  meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, but parents, class, caste and
  community don't approve! Bumbling but loveable servants! Overbearing
  mothers getting sentimental over their favorite sons! Domineering
  daddies who tell their daughters: "You will not marry that man!"
  Gaudy song-and-dance sequences of tenuous relevance to the plot!
  Films that go on for more than three hours! Biceps, midriffs and wet
  saris galore! But no sex, no kissing and certainly no nudity!
  
  
  Inevitably the word kitsch comes up. But Bollywood is finally going
  global, aided by the spread of the Indian diaspora, but also helped
  by a new Western interest. Baz Luhrmann has acknowledged that his
  Moulin Rouge is an homage to the Bollywood musical. Andrew Lloyd
  Webber has teamed with A.R. Rahman, the maestro of the Bollywood
  soundtrack, to pen Bombay Dreams, a theatrical salute to Bollywood.
  Last year's Lagaan was the first Bollywood movie to be nominated for
  an Oscar, while Devdas-the most expensive Indian film ever made-was
  the first to be selected to screen at Cannes.
  
  
  Not everyone is happy with this development. Film Comment devoted an
  excellent issue to Bollywood that provoked this response on its
  letters page:
  
  
  Just like Hollywood, the Bombay film industry and its mega-rich stars
  and corporate sponsors have caused immense damage to South Asia's
  once-vibrant, socially conscious, progressive New Wave cinema. With
  its kitschy, sexist, out-of-this-world tales, Bollywood has
  delegitimized the egalitarian work of Shyam Benegal, Mrinal Sen,
  Girish Karnad and Adoor Gopalakrishnan. With its rampant violence and
  gun worship, it has destroyed the pacifist messages of Satyajit Ray
  and Ritwik Ghatak.
  
  
  Bollywood has forced at least three generations of South Asian men
  and women to gulp down trash in the name of entertainment. Yet if
  only they knew it was there, these generations could easily find
  ambrosia. Alas, even the West doesn't care to know.
  
  
  While I was trying to wake up and smell the ambrosia, I recalled a
  moment in Justine Hardy's book on the Bombay film industry, Bollywood
  Boy, when director Subhash Ghai berates her:
  
  
  You talked of this industry as Bollywood. This is a very wrong thing
  to call it. We are not trying to copy Hollywood. We are making films
  for an audience of a billion people. Over 80 percent of these people
  don't have enough food in their bellies. Our country does not provide
  its people with pool halls, basketball courts and video parlors, so
  we make films for them that will let them forget their lives for
  three hours. We create total fantasy, not the polished reality that
  Hollywood portrays.
  
  
  Though at opposite ends, each of these statements reinforces the
  other. And while both reveal partial (and undeniable) truths about
  Bollywood-and all media-they only succeed in homogenizing an industry
  rich in genre, song, humor and irony.
  
  
  Undoubtedly, there is something distasteful about how much
  contemporary romantic Hindi cinema celebrates the conspicuous
  consumption of a tiny elite. There is often a repellent nationalist
  undercurrent too, where all enemies, especially in action movies,
  have their origins "over the border" in Pakistan (though in an
  earlier, more populist period, the CIA was also invoked).
  
  
  Still, the industry doesn't shirk political controversy. The
  treatment of Islamic fundamentalism and the Kashmiri insurgency in
  films like Fiza and Mission Kashmir-both of which star Hrithik as a
  dream boy Taliban-though in many respects political cop-outs, do at
  least acknowledge a history of state violence, repression and
  discrimination in India against religious minorities. Political
  corruption and class violence are also perennial themes.
  
  
  My own 15-year journey through Bollywood has yielded strange and
  beautiful fruit: the classic (and revolutionary) Amitabh films of
  the '70s; the weepy and blissful melodramatics of Aradhana; the
  bubblegummy Maine Pyar Kiya; the action-packed Insaaf; Vidhu Vinod
  Chopra's Parinda, a brilliant reworking of the American gangster in a
  Bombay clime; Ashutosh Gowariker's spectacular, anti-imperialist
  cricket saga Lagaan; and Sanjay Leela Bhansali's gorgeous, gothic
  Devdas.
  
  
  But Mani Ratnam's 1998 film Dil Se is the most notable. The story of
  an All-India Radio journalist (Shah Rukh Kahn) who travels to
  northeast India to cover an insurrection and falls obsessively in
  love with a beautiful, enigmatic and standoffish woman (who may or
  may not be a terrorist) makes for a sublime cinematic experience.
  Rutnam is one of India's most innovative filmmakers, blending the
  conventions of Bollywood's grand style with an operatic art-house
  aesthetic. His fluid command of mise-en-scène is breathtaking; his
  song-and-dance sequences have a surreal, seductive and uncanny visual
  style, punctuated by A.R. Rahman's hallucinatory score. Like his
  earlier Bombay, this is a devastating film about sexual and emotional
  desire colliding with communal, political and religious identities.
  
  
  Rather than going the way of other international film industries
  under Hollywood's assault, Bollywood's alternative cinematic universe
  is a vibrant as ever. It's as bright, gaudy and brash as the posters
  that ubiquitously dot the Bombay landscape, as politically
  complicated and messy as the country it belongs to. Its siren call is
  often irresistible, as I discovered myself as a teen-age visitor to
  Bombay's Seth Studios. As the actors appeared on set and repeated
  takes, slowly and surely stardust descended on me.
  
  
  Carl Bromley is editor of "Cinema Nation: The Best Writing on Film
  from The Nation, 1913-2000."
  
  
• From: Are Yaar (@ 203.197.141.186) on: Sat Nov 16 01:12:12 EST 2002
  
  An article on IR BGM
  --------------------
  THis is one example to say that we in ARRYG discuss about good music. Who ever might be its creators.
  
  
  
  
  Background Music (Re-recording)
  
  Once the edited rough-cut version of the film is ready after the
  dubbing, a screening is
  arranged for Ilaiyaraaja. This print is called "double-positive" film
  in industry parlance. Because
  there are two positive films that will be run simultaneously. One
  will contain the visuals and the
  other will contain the dialogues. And during the re-recording
  sessions, the music will be recorded
  on another positive sound film. Of course, now a days, if it is done
  in DTS/Dolby formats, then it is
  recorded on tapes/CDs. This projection will not contain the special
  effects sounds like opening of
  door or moving of a car or train or even the dishum dishum sounds of
  the fight sequences. Just
  visuals with dialogue.
  
  Once this screening is over, Ilaiyaraaja will start his sessions
  immediately. If he sees the
  film in evening then his sessions will start from 7 AM the next day.
  And normally the re-recording
  sessions are called 7 to 9 sessions; that is from 7 AM to 9 PM
  sessions with breaks for break-fast
  at 9 AM, lunch at 1 PM and evening snacks at 6 PM.
  
  For this re-recording session, unlike a song recording, all members
  of the orchestra will
  be present. Because in a song he knows exactly the kind of
  instruments that will be needed. But
  in a re-recording session, you don't know when will you require which
  instrument. Hence every
  one will be there. That is, apart from the regulars like the
  electronics group comprising keyboards,
  guitars, the rhythm players, flute, all the others like the violins,
  cellos, double-basses, the
  brass section comprising sax, trumpets, trombones and sitar will also
  be present during this rerecording sessions. Some times, special
  players for Brass, Saarangi, etc. will be called for these sessions
  from Bombay to add strength to the regular local players. These RR
  sessions may take anywhere from 2.5 days to 6 days depending upon the
  complexity and load. If the film has more number of songs then
  Ilaiyaraaja's load comes down that much. Instead, if it has more
  visuals than dialogues like in a Mani Ratnam or Bharathi Raaja film
  then his load goes up.
  
  If the first reel has the credits running and it requires music, then
  it is kept aside as the
  last work of the project after finishing all other reels. Some times
  if it has a song, then he need not
  bother about this.
  
  Now the projections at the studio will be reel by reel, each reel
  running for approximately
  10 minutes. In some reels, if there is a song, then the rest of the
  reel should be seen for potential
  music inclusion.
  
  The reel is projected. The whole orchestra, some 70 players, and the
  director, and all
  others in studio watch the film in the hall with Ilaiyaraaja.
  Ilaiyaraaja sits in the centre of the hall
  with his harmonium in front of him and resting his score pad on that.
  He is a picture of sphinx like
  concentration watching the reel and the happenings there. As I said,
  this version of the film does
  not contain special effects sounds. So Ilaiyaraaja has to take that
  also into consideration and
  there may be some shots where he may leave them blank without music
  to be filled up later with
  special effect sounds.
  
  Once the reel is over, the lights come on. During the screening one
  can see Ilaiyaraaja
  making some short notes on his pad. Ilaiyaraaja waits for a few
  seconds, I think more to adjust
  his eyes to the light, than for any thing else.
  
  He starts writing on his score pad. He does not hum any phrase or use
  his harmonium.
  
  When you see this scene, you may think that this man has seen this
  film many times to decide
  the cues for music and the compositions needed. But he is seeing the
  film only for the second
  time.
  
  The whole theatre goes into silence mode and what you can hear is
  only the rustle of the
  paper and the scratch of pen.
  
  Judi and Sada pull up a chair and sit on either side of Ilaiyaraaja
  with their notepads
  ready. Behind Ilaiyaraaja, other players start assembling with their
  notepads in hand. Oblivious of
  all these hustle and bustle, Ilaiyaraaja is seriously writing the
  score. And the players from different
  groups start copying their individual parts then there, if there is
  any thing for them in that reel. You
  see, there is no time to waste; to wait for him to complete the full
  score and then take xerox
  copies for every one and all other luxuries that you enjoy in a song
  recording.
  
  You can notice one group calling the others who are chatting outside
  with their tea and
  smoke, "Brass is there, go in". You can see the brass players rushing
  inside to copy their parts.
  
  The sitar player who is sparingly used normally, and usually spends
  most of his time in rest
  during the entire re-recording session will get a call when he least
  expects it. He would have seen
  the reel with Ilaiyaraaja like all others and might have thought that
  this reel contains nothing that
  may demand a sitar and might have gone out again to relax till the
  next reel is projected. But
  then, with Ilaiyaraaja, you can never predict what will he do next.
  Suddenly the sitar man gets a
  call to come in and take his score.
  
  Now Ilaiyaraaja has finished his writing. Players are settling in
  their seats. And Judi gets
  his clarifications and makes sure that all those who have copied
  their parts have done it right by
  checking the score of each and every group. Every one is ready on
  their seats. (Now a days,
  some times, Ilaiyaraaja uses a key-board and he directly feeds some
  of the portions into it from
  his mind and the rest he writes down as usual. For Hey Ram the re-
  recording for which he plans
  to record in India and also in the Europe with a classical orchestra,
  he directly composed on the
  key-board and the attached computer with the score management
  software printed out the entire
  score. Once you input the score to this software then it becomes easy
  to separate the parts of the
  score instrument wise and print them separately and also a combined
  score for the conductor.)
  
  Now the orchestra knows that there are six musical pieces in this
  reel and the
  instruments involved in each of these pieces and the length of the
  pieces. But nobody knows
  where this music pieces are to be fit in. Where they are going to
  begin, where to end.
  
  Of course, they are not bothered about the ending. Because
  Ilaiyaraaja writes exactly for
  the time required for the sequence. With out using a stop watch or
  music editor, he normally
  writes music that exactly fits the required timing. May be, he has a
  mental clock that while
  deciding the start cue and end cue for a music bit, is also capable
  of calculating the exact footage
  and the required timing for that footage!
  
  For example, I am taking a reel from the Mani Ratnam film Mouna
  Raagam, which I
  consider one of the best study materials on background scoring in
  film music.
  
  The reel starts mid-way after the song Oho, Megam Vanthatho.
  * Revathi comes home thinking the boy who was to come and see her for
  marriage would
  have gone back. No, he was still waiting to talk with her. Her mother
  and others scold and get her
  ready. She is pushed into the room where Mohan is waiting.
  * This meeting with the boy is some thing she wanted to avoid but
  couldn't. Now she enters
  the room with a lot of reservations and confusions. She starts
  talking to him hesitatingly to begin
  with. First she says she won't say sorry for keeping him waiting.
  Then she talks about herself, her
  character, her concept of marriage, etc, and why she feels she could
  not be a good wife to him,
  etc.
  * Finally when she asks Mohan to talk some thing, he says "I like you
  very much" and pushes
  off.
  * Every one is happily talking that the boy has agreed for the
  marriage and about the
  preparations to be done.
  * Nobody asks Revathi her opinion. Her sister-in-law reminds every
  one about this. Her father
  asks her opinion. She says no. Every one was very unhappy and asks
  her to give reasons. She
  says no again and again.
  * Her father stands up and talks about his middle class background
  and his responsibility of
  getting her other sisters married, etc.
  * Now Revathi asks her father whether he wants to sell her to some
  one to clear his
  responsibility.
  * Her father slaps her.
  * She walks out of the house, goes and sits on a roadside stone
  talking to herself, it is a
  moon lit night.
  
  When Ilaiyaraaja completes the score for this reel, the orchestra has
  the following:
  
  1. A short piece with Guitar and Keyboard
  2. A single stroke bang on the mridangam
  3. A small piece by Keyboard, sitar and Guitar
  4. Guitar, Keyboard and Strings.
  5. A flute piece started with Guitar and later keyboards join to
  repeat what they did in # 4.
  6. A piece beginning with violins and answered by the cellos. At the
  end the key-boards join
  giving some kind of night effect.
  
  Ilaiyaraaja gets up and without even looking around to see whether
  all of them are ready
  (they are), starts putting them through the score for a short
  rehearsal. Piece by piece. Once he
  has put them through all the pieces in this reel, he signals the
  operator to start the reel screening
  again.
  
  The reel starts running again. Now Ilaiyaraaja watches the movie in
  silence. And the
  orchestra is in a constant alert waiting for his signal. He looks
  like a man possessed, with total
  concentration on the screen. His hands ever ready to conduct the
  score.
  
  # When Revathi enters the house with her mother asking whether they
  have left any thing
  for her to eat, she stops dumbstruck seeing Mohan and all others.
  When Revathi sees them,
  Ilaiyaraaja's hand signals the Keyboard and Guitar.
  
  # While getting dressed, Revathi hears that the boy is still waiting
  because he wants to talk
  to her some thing; his hand signals the rhythm man-for the single
  stroke bang on the mridangam.
  This player was waiting for this because he knew that his piece was
  the next one in this reel.
  
  # Revathi enters the room and sees Mohan. Now his hand signals the
  sitar player (he is
  sitting behind him and Ilaiyaraaja does not bother to see any body,
  his concentration totally on the
  screen only. Any way, the sitar man knew that it was his turn next).
  This piece is some kind of a
  broken piece with silence or, as he calls in music parlance, with
  rests in between. This is to go
  with the emotions of the character that enters the room with a lot of
  reluctance and reservations.
  
  # Just before Revathi completes her initial intro saying "I am not
  going to say sorry for
  keeping you all waiting" this piece ends giving a bit of silence.
  
  # When she completes this sentence, Ilaiyaraaja signals the next
  piece by Guitar,
  Keyboards and strings.
  
  # The music on its own ends just a few seconds before Revathi
  completes her monologue
  and tells Mohan that she won't be a good wife and asks his opinion.
  What was written fits exactly
  only that much that Ilaiyaraaja has planned. More over, the silence
  created before Revathi
  completes her monologue and waits for Mohan's answer is intentional
  in creating a tension.
  
  # When Mohan says that he likes her very much, Ilaiyaraaja signals
  the Rhythm man
  again and then the Sitar man. This is some kind of a short dialogue
  between Rhythm and Sitar
  
  # The next piece starts when Revathi's father starts talking about
  his poor state, etc.,
  Ilaiyaraaja signals the Guitar, flute and Keyboard. After the initial
  flute bit, the Keyboards repeat
  what they played in the earlier piece, that is, when Revathi was
  talking with Mohan.
  
  # Revathi starts replying her father…
  
  # Now Ilaiyaraaja signals the string section to be ready; once her
  father slaps Revathi, his
  hand moves like a flash, the Keyboards withdraw and a new piece
  starts with violins and they are
  answered vigorously by the cellos. This dialogue continues till
  Revathi comes out of the house
  and sits on a road side stone, talking to herself; when the moon is
  shown, Ilaiyaraaja signals the
  night effect key-boards to join.
  
  Listen to the re-recording tracks of the movie in my other site
  Maestro's Songs Archives
  This process is called "Synchronizing the music with the visuals".
  When Ilaiyaraaja does
  this process, that is conducting the score while seeing the movie,
  Puru is busy marking the
  beginning cues of each and every piece and also where exactly it
  ends. The starting cues he also
  marks in the form of the reel counter that is running above the
  screen. Of course, Ilaiyaraaja also
  in between, when he is waiting for the next cue, gives Puru and other
  members involved in this
  reel some finer instructions about the other aspects. And if there
  are any pieces for chorus voices
  they are also ready with the orchestra. Normally when he sees the
  full film, he gets an idea about
  the reels in which he would be needing chorus voices, and accordingly
  they will be called. They
  won't be present all the time like other members of the orchestra.
  
  Once the reel is over, Ilaiyaraaja gets into the Mixer Console room
  and Puru takes on the
  role of the Conductor for the session. The reel is screened again
  with the speakers in the hall
  switched off and Puru with his headphone listens to the dialogue and
  watches the screen and
  conducts the orchestra for the different cues. Again individual
  groups play from the different
  mikes and booths.
  
  They play once when Ilaiyaraaja listens from the console and balances
  the tracks. And
  the next time it is take. They record the pieces one by one. The
  whole process normally takes
  anywhere between 1 hour to 6 hours, depending up on the complexity.
  
  Ilaiyaraaja says that the most important instrument in his armory
  is `silence'. All other
  things are just instruments to create that `silence'. He just uses
  other instruments to leave at the
  `silence' point to create tension, excitement or melancholy. If you
  have keenly watched his
  background scores, you can notice, just at that moment when you feel
  tension, then you can
  notice that he has stopped his music, that is why you are feeling the
  tension or concentration.
  
  This he uses effectively even in fight sequences, when suddenly he
  stops the music and leaves
  only the effects to go on and that makes you attentive suddenly
  without your realising it.
  
  Some times, the director may not have finalised his version of some
  of the scenes. In
  such cases, Ilaiyaraaja would record two or three version of music
  for that reel, one for a version
  with the particular scene and one with out that scene. He is always
  particular that if the director
  removes that scene later then the music should not appear to be
  stopping abruptly. Hence in
  such cases Ilaiyaraaja will give two or three versions for the
  director to choose later.
  
  While seeing the full film, he gets an idea whether he is going to
  compose a new theme
  music for this story or going to use one of the song tunes as the
  theme. And many times he has
  many themes for many characters or situations that gets repeated
  throughout the movie in
  different variations to create different moods. When he takes up the
  music writing for credits (first
  reel or some times partly first reel and partly last reel) he weaves
  these themes in to that or uses
  the song themes. It all depends on what mood he wants to create.
  
  In Thalapathi when he found out that the final film had more on
  mother-son sentiment
  than friendship sentiment as originally narrated to him during the
  composing sessions, he decided
  to use the Chinnathai song as the theme. He used that in different
  variations to build the
  emotional colour of the story as a mother-son story.
  
  In Idhayathai Thirudathe, the credits come on only after some time
  when Nagarjuna gets
  into an accident and rushed to the hospital. If you notice, the music
  is nothing but the theme
  music of the film, which you will hear later many times, in many
  variations, throughout the film but
  now here it is like a slow movement, depicting tragedy.
  
  In Mouna Raagam he has a theme music with two variations. A fast
  paced one is for
  Karthik and a gentle, slow paced one for Mohan. And the first reel
  when the credits are on, you
  can hear both in that. In the same film when Karthik leaves his house
  for marriage, the police take
  him away. When he is travelling in the jeep, mid way through, the
  music starts. First a gentle
  beginning with keyboards and when he jumps from the jeep, drum
  strokes come on. When he
  starts running, a solo violin starts a tremolo, which is answered by
  other violins and cellos. Now
  this dialogue reaches its crescendo and suddenly when Karthik sees
  Revathi who is sitting on top
  of the steps on the other side of the road, the first violins burst
  out the theme music and they are
  answered by the second violins and cellos; it continues through the
  process of Karthik getting
  shot at and ends with Revathi completing her flash back story.
  
  In Gopura Vaasalile, the first reel when the credits come on after
  the initial scene when
  the friends board the train to go to Ooty, the entire sequence is the
  train and the scenic hill track
  to Ooty. The music is a beautiful Concerto for Flute and Orchestra.
  With the solo flute taking on
  the theme of the film and later joined by the strings and other
  players and later the flute taking on
  the song themes from the film.
  
  To quote from Thalapathy again, it has many interesting examples to
  show how a correct
  musical score can add a lot of depth and colour to a scene.
  
  # The scene where Mammooty suddenly asks Rajani to marry Bhanupriya
  and both of
  them are shocked. Very effective use of Strings and keyboards add
  weight to this scene. And
  when they are shown entering the Colony, he uses the melody of the
  unused song
  Putham Puthu Poo Poothatho… first as a solo humming and then with
  Shehnai/Saarangi to
  portray the true feelings of the characters and situation.
  
  # The scene where Jaishankar tells Rajani that he has a mother and
  Rajani refusing to
  believe that at first and then requesting Jai not to tell her that he
  is alive as she should not come
  to know that her son is such a bad element. See how effectively he
  has used chorus voices with
  keyboards and strings.
  
  # Again the scene where Bhanupria and her kid come to the clinic and
  leave the shawl of
  Rajani in which Srividhya had thrown him away many years back.
  Srividhya calls out the girl and
  gives the shawl. The girl narrates the story of the shawl. While
  Srividhya realises the enormity of
  the statement, the kid takes the shawl away and Srividhya helplessly
  looks at the shawl slipping
  away from her hands, as if it is her kid that is slipping away from
  her hands. The music here is
  marvelous with santoor effects from the keyboards.
  
  # The scene where Srividhya visits Rajani. Chorus voices with
  keyboards effectively create
  the build-up for this reunion scene.
  
  # When Rajani comes to meet Aravindswamy to request him to go out of
  that town on
  transfer- Rajani sees Shobana on the top of the steps. The moment
  they see each other, a solo
  violin in slow tempo, takes on from the Sundari song pallavi "Naan
  Unai
  Theendamatten.." and other strings give minimal support. The music
  stops just giving a few
  seconds of silence before Rajani starts talking, asking
  Shobana "Nalla erukkia".
  Some times he has to do the filling up before or after a song. For
  example, in
  Chinnathambi, when Prabu and Kushboo come out of the house the song
  Povoma Oorkolam
  does not start immediately. There is a length of shots when Kushboo
  is seen enjoying the beauty
  of the nature, the green fields, the birds, the wind, etc. Now
  Ilaiyaraaja has to fill up this portion
  with a music which should effortlessly continue with the song that is
  to follow. If you watch again,
  please notice, how beautifully the strings and flute are used to
  create that.
  
  In the same way, the stick fight and the song Santhu Pottu that
  follows that in Thevar
  Magan. Ilaiyaraaja is aware that this is not a serious fight scene,
  just a play kind of thing. So he
  decides to treat this differently. At first when the fight starts,
  the rhythm bangs are used to create
  tension. And as the fight slowly progresses, the individual rhythm
  play has become a full-fledged
  song kind of thing, some kind of a dance music. You may even wonder
  whether the fight was
  picturised for the music or the other way round. It is so perfect.
  But it is some thing done during
  the re-recording. Finally when the song begins, it looks like the
  extension of the stick fight dance
  music.
  
  In Apoorva Sakotharargal, during the initial scenes when Nagesh and
  gang poison
  Srividhya the violent music with strings and brass begin. And it is
  followed by a varied rhythm play
  when they try to escape through the fields and the gang chasing them.
  And the credits start after
  the killing of Kamal and suddenly the music changes to a eerie,
  mystery kind of thing with flutes,
  brass and rhythms. And when the scene changes to the river with the
  boat in which Srividhya
  tries to escape, a solo flute takes over with the theme of the story
  and strings answer it. And this
  theme we will hear many times in the story to follow.
  
  Some times during the re-recording sessions, he may decide to fill-up
  a scene with a bit
  song or even a full song. Bit songs have happened many a time. But
  the most notable and
  popular full song done during the re-recording sessions was the
  famous Das, Das,Chinnappa
  Das song in Kadalora Kavithaigal.
  
  When Ilaiyaraaja saw that reel he did not write any thing and took
  the next reels after
  that. Every one including the director was wondering why. And in the
  afternoon after lunch, when
  Ilaiyaraaja came to the session he was ready for a song recording,
  with the full score written
  during the lunch break. In the film, it appears as if the
  picturisation was done for a song, but in
  fact it was the other way round. The song will start with a Veda like
  hymn rendition Oru Kaalai
  Thookki… from the scene Satyaraj standing on one leg and goes on from
  there.
  
  Most of the directors feel that after his re-recording the whole film
  looks so different from
  what they conceived or expected it to be. It is much much more than
  their imagination. And
  Ilaiyaraaja's main trait is that he does not do any thing to force
  himself-either in songs or in
  background scoring. He does just what is required for the scene, how
  to add value to that or how
  to support that or how to cover some flaws that can not be corrected
  now. And his concentration
  and sincerity is the same for all whether it is a Ramarajan film or a
  MR or BR film. Even in a third
  rate film, if you notice, his work would be of the highest order. Of
  course, if the film is so bad then
  even his music can not do much to revive that. Some times, if the
  director is around during the
  sessions, Ilaiyaraaja cheks with them whether what he has composed is
  fine. But he has
  established such a great reputation to correctly gauge the mood of a
  film and write the
  appropriate musical treatment required to enhance it, most of the
  directors just leave every thing
  to him; that is the complete editorial freedom to decide the cues,
  the type instruments and the
  score.
  
  Some times the directors kill his songs with their own ideas. A good
  example is the
  famous Sundari song from Thalapathy. It is a song depicting war. It
  has a powerful orchestration
  with a lot of strings and brass and chorus voices. But in the film
  the director killed the song with
  excessive use of horse running effects, did you notice?
  
  There are many a time when Ilaiyaraaja has done RR for two films
  simultaneously.
  Thevar Magan was one such film. It was a typical Diwali release and
  it was one of those times
  when Ilaiyaraaja used to have at least half a dozen movies for
  simultaneous release. And every
  director will be working on the final edit version till the last
  minute and every one will be forcing to
  complete the RR some how to give them time to do the balance work and
  release the pic for
  Diwali.
  
  In such a situations, Ilaiyaraaja will have two orchestras in two
  studios. In studio-A he will
  see a reel, write the score, sync the score with the film and give
  instructions to one of his
  assistants like Puru or somebody and they will record the pieces one
  by one.
  
  While they do this, he will go to Studio-B and see a reel from the
  second film and do the
  same thing there-see that reel from where he left in the last session
  in that film, write the score,
  sync it with the film and record the pieces himself or leave that to
  the boys to complete the take
  while he goes back to Studio-A, where by now the recording of earlier
  reel would have been
  completed and he takes up the next reel for scoring.
  
  Imagine the magnitude of mental pressure. Different stories,
  different situations
  demanding different kind of score, different threads and themes to
  follow, and our man
  effortlessly criss crossing between the studios.
  
  And he changes the schedule (seeing the film reel by reel, writing
  the music,
  synchronizing it with the visuals and recording the pieces) when he
  does work for a film that is to
  be recorded in DTS or DOLBY.
  
  In such cases what he does is this. Sees the full film once as usual
  in a preview theatre.
  And starts seeing the reels one by one in the preview theatre
  (instead of his recording theatre).
  Writes the score for each and every reel. During this sessions he has
  his main assistants like
  Puru, Viji, Judi and some more people. Then and there his score will
  be copied section wise and
  extra copies made for the orchestra.
  
  And when this is over for all the reels, the scene shifts to the
  recording theatre. He starts
  seeing reel by reel. Conducts the score with the orchestra, syncs it
  with the visuals and goes for
  recording. He does this because the recording in DTS or other modern
  formats are directly done
  in CD or tapes in multiple tracks. The balancing and mixing becomes
  complex like a multi-track
  song recording and takes a long time than his normal recording
  sessions when the recording is
  actually done in sound films. Also, these special sessions will have
  a lot of new musicians who
  are new to his style. Hence it would be better if the full score is
  ready on hand for the sessions.
  That would save a lot of time. His BGM tracks done in such latest
  formats can be easily
  converted into individual albums-for example Mahanadhi, Kaalapani, My
  DearKuttichathan,
  Kaadhal Kavithai, etc.
  
  But his other BGM works can not be done that way. Because normally
  the re-recording
  music is recorded directly on sound films. Hence they may have to be
  re-recorded again from the
  old scores if you want to get them to album quality.
  
  You would be able to appreciate the amount of work he does with just
  a single viewing of
  the rough cut film when he is able to give such a good quality
  musical support to them. Without
  the aid of lists of music cues, a music editor or even a stopwatch,
  Ilaiyaraaja is able to compose
  accurately a piece for a particular film cue which fits exactly not
  only the required timing but also
  the mood and pace of the action on the screen, heightening the
  tension if it was a fight scene, or
  enhancing with beautiful lyrical melodies the romantic mood of a love
  scene, or just adding
  spontaneously joyous excitement rhythmically to a dance scene.
  
  John Williams is another composer whom I admire very much. Like
  Ilaiyaraaja, he also
  writes every thing himself, without depending on
  arrangers/orchestrators like most of the MDs in
  Hollywood. But do you know the time he took for writing the score for
  Phantom Menace-Episode
  I? The rough cut version was given to him some time in October 1998.
  And he was ready to
  record the score with the London Symphony Orchestra in February 1999.
  And he himself admits
  he would have seen the film at least 50 times in the course of
  composing the score.
  What kind of output will Ilaiyaraaja produce, if he gets that kind of
  time and resources?
  
  
  

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